


A Far Away Galaxy

by LacieRiverPanda27



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Decision Making, F/M, Fluff, I was holding a kitten while writing this, Making Out, No Smut, Teenlock, Tumblr Exchangelock, career choice, mycrawft, only a little bit, pinning, problems at home, tons and tons of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:45:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1897761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LacieRiverPanda27/pseuds/LacieRiverPanda27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper is quite young girl with the only excitement in her life is her future at St Bartholomew’s teaching hospital. But rumors start flowing around that her feelings for her long-time crush, Mycroft Homes, might be less than one-sides. But more times than not, rumors tend to be false. And when tragedy hits at home, her once perfect life flips on it head leaving her at war with herself; to do what she's always wanted or to do what's right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Admiring for Afar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mycrawft](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=mycrawft).



> This is my gift for the Tumblrgirft exchange Exchangelock. This gift it too mycrawft.
> 
> I tried to do a bit of everything (Mycroft/Molly, teenlock, alternate professions). Let it be known that I am crap at writing romance, but I'll do my best anyways! sorry if this is late, AO3 was having trouble uploading at first.

* * *

_All in one night he took me on an adventure_

_Through space; to galaxies no man_

_Has ever discovered; to beautiful_

_Lands that cannot be forgotten_

 

_But then he dropped me off back here on earth_

 

_Now tell me, how do you expect me to thrive_

_Here in such a simple world_

_When I have seen places far more beautiful_

_Than even the greatest of minds could imagine?  
_

_~A Far Away Galaxy, by H.M._

* * *

The school’s bells blared throughout the halls giving out the signal for the classes to end. The thundering sound of the teens leaving and heading to their classes echoed off the walls, bouncing back to the owners of the noise. Along with the loud claps of shoes hitting the floor was the chattering of the adolescent among one another. Among these was young Molly Hooper.

“So, you going to Sally’s this weekend? Her parents are gone for the weekend and she’s throwing a party this weekend.”

Molly opened her locker and began switching out her books for her textbooks for her next class. Standing next to her doing the same was Patty Smith. Patty was about sixteen years old, the same age as Molly, had red fiery hair that seemed to pop out of her head in curls. Patty and Molly had met when Molly had first started her new school. Patty was out-spoken and always spoke her mind; never caring what her listeners thought of her.

Molly was just the opposite; her light brown hair was smooth and straight, kept together in a ponytail flowing off her shoulder. Her mousy like personality had earned her the nickname Mousy-Molly. Even without her petite, innocent features, her clothes choice spoke for her. Her cardigans, baggy pants and cherry-covered shirts made her seem like swimming in her clothes. Their light colors blended together nicely, but were dulled together bluntly.

“I don’t know… I might, I mean I still have some homework and with Mr. Gale’s math test coming up next week-“

“Holmes might be there.”

Molly was always careful to hold her tongue when the subject of Holmes came into the conversation. She would have rather burned the cute new Kitty Shirt she got for her birthday than to let someone found out about her secret crush on the Holmes boy. Patty was the only person on the entire planet who knew, and this was only because she had threatened to post a picture of Molly is what might possibly be the world’s ugliest dress.

“Holmes? Go to a party? Now you’re just fooling me, everyone knows Holmes never goes to parties. Sherlock maybe, but My- Holmes would never.”

Mycroft Holmes never let anyone call him by his first name. According to his brother, Sherlock, Mycroft had been made fun of as a child because of his name, and ever since would only respond to those who called him by his last name. John Watson, Sherlock’s childhood friend, had always said it was because his mother would try and call Mycroft shortened versions of his name like Myc or My, and had even gotten Sherlock to call him My as a child. Apparently, he detests those names and would ignore anyone who would try and refer to him by them.

But if you were to ask Mycroft why he wished to be called by his last name, he would simply say that it was more professional.

“There’s no chance you’ll go then?” As Patty said this, the school bells rang out, telling all the children to head to their classrooms.

“Nope. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay, see ya Molls!”

* * *

Molly Hooper’s next class happen to World History, which was taught by a man called Mr. Worth. Worth was an older man somewhere in his mid-fifties, his hair had turned a bright white and his cheeks had begun to sag. He stood about a head and a half over all the students, and had a soft round belly. He wore the typical clothes an older teacher would wear; nice dress shirt with a sweater vest and khakis trousers.

He was a good natured man with an odd sense of humor. It was known throughout the school that if you had Mr. Worth’s class, there was a good chance that he would pull a prank on you. The man was truly still a boy at heart; hiding fake spiders and mice in the girl’s desk and glue and gum hidden on the boys. He was never too hard on his students, but would always try and push them to do their best.

Even though all this was true, Molly dreaded his class. Mr. Worth had assigned the students their seats alphabetically, so that stuck her right next to the Holmes boys.

Mycroft Holmes, to be exact.

As Molly entered the classroom, she saw that Mycroft Holmes had already taken his seat and was reading from his textbook. He paid Molly no attention as she sat down next to him.

In the next seat over, Sherlock was chatting away with John about some kid, Carol Powers Molly thought she heard, who had some sort of fit while swimming. Molly remembered her mother saying something about him; poor kid had drowned before they could save him.

Molly took out her own notebook and began getting ready for the class. It was only a few moments later that the teacher walked in and started class.

All throughout class, Molly couldn’t help but sneak a sideways glance from time-to-time. From where Molly sat the sun hit Mycroft’s chair perfect so that Mycroft’s body blocked out the sun, but still letting its beam go around him figure creating an almost angelic image. As Molly took in the sight, she realized that she had been staring for quite a few minutes, and Mycroft had noticed.

Of course he noticed, it would be stupid not to think he would. Mycroft knew everything, he could take one look at you and know what grade you had scored, how your parents had reacted, and he even knew which teachers would most likely either quit or retire that year before the teachers themselves knew! So it shouldn’t have surprised Molly had he noticed her staring. 

But even this fact couldn’t get her to stop. Not when those big all-see-eyes were staring right back at her. Those eyes that were framed by the dozens and dozens of freckles littered across his nose cheekbones. His smooth ginger hair was cut perfectly around his adorably big ears that he had yet to grow into.

“Can I help you?” He said a low gentle voice so not to disturb the rest of the class.

An image passed through Molly’s head _The morning sun was peering through the blinds on the window, it cast over the two figures entangled together in the large bed. The two figures opened their eyes simultaneously and smiled at the sight of the other. They were both wearing minimal amounts of clothing; their dignity only covered by the thick blanket over them. As they drew themselves to full conscientiousness, the man; who had ginger hair and freckles scattered over his face, looked down upon the woman next to him, and in a low and gentle voice 'Good morning, love."_

Oh god, she really needed to get a hold of herself. “W-what? N-no, I’m sorry, I was just off in my head for a second.” She replied with a nervous giggle.

Molly quickly turned away, not needing to look to know that she had received a confused and strange look. _Great going! Now he probably just thinks you’re some stupid lovesick schoolgirl! **Well you are, aren’t you?**_

Molly shook her head and tried to focus on her work. She had to get good grades if she wanted to graduate and go to a good university. She knew she wanted to do something in the medical department, but what? Her people skills were horrible, and the people who she was close with all knew her to be an oddball. Molly could still remember her aunt’s shriek as Molly picked up the dead toad and began to tell her cousins which parts of the intestines had come out and which ones were still inside.

“CLASS DISMISSED!"

Molly nearly jumped out of her seat as the school bells rang out the second the words left her teachers mouth; he was always a second before the bells singled dismissal, no one knew how. Once she was down gathering her things and put thing into her pink checkered backpack, she hurried to stand, hoping to walk out the door at the same time as Mycroft would. They only had two classes together and their lockers were on either side of the school, so their chances of 'bumping into each other' were limited. But as Molly turned she saw that Mycroft was already gone.


	2. Fancy Seeing You Here

* * *

 When the date of the party had arrived, Molly received a phone call from Patty asking once more if she was sure she didn't want to tag along. Giving the same excuse as she had at school, Molly declined saying that she would see Patty later. So Molly hung up with a sigh and dug out her textbooks from her school bag. She did alright in maths, just barely got a 90. But this year's lessons had been particularly hard, and if she wanted to get into St. Bart's teaching hospital, she was going to have to get above average grades.

So she turned down, but not completely off, her phone and with her legs crisscrossed, she opened her books and notes.

There was one small blessing about leaving alone with her mum; the silence. No siblings running down the halls yelling about or banging on the bathroom door shouting that it was their turn. Patty had a younger brother and was constantly complaining about him. About how she caught him snooping through her room, or using her bathroom products. Molly remember one morning when Patty came to school in a horrible mood because her little brother had made a paper airplane out of her essay and flew it straight into the dog's water bowl.

But Molly also knew other children who their siblings were like their best friend. Tessa and Gina were sisters who were only a year apart. They had shared the same room for over six years until they moved to London and were finally given a room of their own. They were never closer. Both sisters had gotten more of their father's genes than their mother, so they often were borrowing stuff from each other. Molly could remember going over their house and asking Gina if she could borrow a shirt. So naturally, Gina went to her closet and got Molly out a shirt. Molly gave Gina the shirt cleaned and washed the next day at school. But the next time Molly saw them, Tessa was wearing the shirt. When Molly had made a joke about them sharing clothes the girls looked confused and Tessa stated that she had bought the shirt at the concert. But then Gina turned to her sister saying that the shirt was, for she had gotten it for her birthday. After arguing over whose shirt it was for a good five minutes the two sisters simply shrugged and declaring that they both probably had the same shirt and got the two mixed up at some point. Needless to so they never figured out whose shirt it.

Both a blessing and curse, Molly supposed.

But Molly also supposed that it wasn't the lack of siblings that made her question the slight dislike of the silence. It was the lack of the father. With her mother's odd working schedule, more often than not, Molly would fine herself home alone. There were times when Molly didn't mind being home alone. She could watch whenever she wanted, listen to whatever she wanted, she could do anything she felt like doing.

But there were still times when Molly dreaded eating alone with only the silence as her companion. When the only warmth she could find when she watched the telly was from a large blanket, rather than another body next to hers.

Yes, the silence could be both a friend and an enemy.

* * *

Molly's mother worked as a doctor, she was the person who had gotten Molly interested in the human. She worked specially as a doctor who did home-calls, so it was no surprise when she would leave late night and not come back till early morning. If she did receive a call late at night she would leave a stick-note on the counter for Molly to find in case something was to happen.

So it surprise (and irritated) Molly when she received a phone call around two in the morning.

"Hello?" Molly answered groggily.

"Molly? It's Peter Thrust; we have the same English class? Listen; are you able to come down to my place tonight?"

Peter Thrust, the name sounded familiar enough. Peter was the kid who sat in the back of the class, napped during lessons and only spoke to either talk to his friends or hit on girls. Now, if Molly was thinking of the right Peter, he normally went for the more outgoing girls. So why on earth he would call Molly was beyond her understanding (Her two-in-the-morning understanding that is).

"It's Patty."

This got Molly's attention immediately. Patty and Peter didn't usual travel in the same circles, so it must have been very serious if Peter was involved in something that concerned Patty. Worry and alertness surged through Molly as she sat up.

"You know that party Sally Donavon was having? Well, apparently someone called the cops and- Well you know the kind of stuff they do at these parties! So when the police arrived everyone started trying to run for it. Most of the kids when off their own way, but, well since I live close by I just walked home. I didn't realize it, but a couple of people followed me home and-well some of them are bad off. My parents aren't home but I have a little sister here and well, a few people aren't thinking straight, I think they drank too much. But a couple of people, Patty included, are....high. I told everyone had to find their own rides but Patty said that she told her mum she was stay over your house and the girl who drove Patty here ran out like everyone else-"

"And you want to know if I can come pick her up?" Molly finished for him. "Alright, my mum works late so it shouldn't be any trouble. Where do you live?"

* * *

Molly had quickly changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and a pullover sweatshirt before rushing out. Molly was every bit grateful that her mum hadn't sold their old car yet. It was ten years old and a gas-guzzler, but it drove fine and could get Molly their and back in one piece so it was fine with Molly.

Peter Thrust lived in an average looking part of town. It was a nice quiet suburb part of town; each house had perfectly cut grass with a white picket fence. It would seem that Sherlock was correct in saying that Sally was idiot, having a huge party in this town would stick out like a sore thumb!

As she drove down the road further she held her breath as she came across a house with three police cars in the front yard. Guilt filled her stomach, she had no doubt that if she had attended that party she wouldn't have been one of the ones that had escaped. She felt hurt when she realized that Patty most certainly would have forgotten about her and left her for the police. At least the girl was smart enough to get out and find some place safe.

She parked her car in the driveway with the house of the address Peter had given her. Besides her car there were three others, no doubt other coming to pick their friends up. As she got out of her car a young woman came storming out gripping tightly at the arm of a boy who couldn't have been more than few years younger.

"This is the last straw Luke! This is the third time this MONTH! Mum and dad WILL be told about this! I don't care if it will cost you your monthly allowance or if they will send you off to rehab! I'm frickin tired of this!"

Molly quickly walked passed them and tried to not make any eye contacted. She'd be damned if they thought she was judging them, after all, she was here for the exact same reason. She knocked only twice before the door was opened. Peter stood nervously bouncing on the balls of his feet as he let her in. He was still sober, but his breath smelled of alcohol.

"-I hate having to throw her out, but it's my sister. She's only four years old- and you know how kids are! They'll say anything! If my parent's find out-"

"Relax Mr. Thrust, Miss. Hooper and I don't have any reason to go off squealing about this. Although you’re younger sibling is hardly the sole reason for wanting everyone gone. No, were an addict once yourself, you've only just gotten clean a few months back. It's your parents; you know their worries of you finding another substance to fill for the drugs. You've only had a couple beers tonight, but you know that if your parents so much as caught you with one you'll be in trouble."

"How the hell- You know what, I don't care! Just get them out of my house!"

Molly looked into Peter's living room, sitting curled up on either side of couch was Patty on one side and Sherlock Holmes on the other and standing next to Sherlock was Mycroft Holmes.


	3. Trying to Forget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late update, we had to switch our internet server because our TV and Internet came together. But that's all taken care of and new chatpers should be posted sooner!

Sherlock sat with his feet tucked underneath him. His brother stood across the room talking with Peter in hushed tones. The night had started out irritating and now it was going to end in the same way. John had been invited by his current girlfriend to a party her friend was throwing. Then they broke up. After that John had stuck to Sherlock's side like glue. He came over after school nearly every day and for the past few nights had even been staying over through the night. Since John was one of few lesser boring, Sherlock usual didn't mind being around him. But everyone had their breaking point and a full week of John Watson always by his side asking 'why?' and 'I don't understand, we were so happy' was Sherlock's. So Sherlock grab John by his wrist and dragged him out to the party.

That's where the trouble began.

John had almost immediately thrown himself towards the drinks and the closet female he could find. After about fifteen minutes Sherlock had lost track of him. He stood awkwardly against the wall for awhile simply observing everyone his eyes came upon. He was getting rather bored and was considering leaving when he came upon a group gathered around the bathroom. They were shooting up.

Sherlock had been very careful about not letting anyone find out about his cocaine habit. Since he and John lived on opposite sides of town, he could easily pick some up on his way home from school. Mycroft worked nearly every day after school at the Ice cream parlor down the road, and with their parent's off on business so often there plenty of opportunities that presented themselves.

That was until John broke up with Sarah and was by his side 24/7. He hadn't had a chance to shoot up in over almost two weeks.

Sherlock had always been careful not to do too much at one time. He contently had to remind himself that he only needed enough to clear his head, He.Was.Not.An.Addict! But it had been over two weeks, his body was showing signs of a minor withdrawal. His body ached, his head hurt and his stomach felt like it had been tangled into a knot. He just needed a little bit to get him through the night so no one would suspect anything. 

The first few minutes were always the best, he felt his whole body relax and all his worries, aches, pains, all seemed to melt right off him. What did it matter that John was brokenhearted? He'd get over it, he always did. Why did he always worry about his parents or Mycroft catching him? They were never around anyways! All pointless worries!

He felt amazing! His whole being felt at ease, all the stress and troubles were gone. Everything was perfectly fine, Mycroft and his parents were away, John was off probably snogging the face off some girl, everything was fine!

That was until the police showed up.

In his panic, Sherlock began frantically searching for John. He spun around the room looking for his blonde haired friend. Everyone was running about, pushing passed him, knocking him about, his voice lost in a sea of noise. His suddenly noticed that everything seemed fuzzy. Not like the warm soft comfortable fuzzy. But more so like a static, blurred type of fuzzy. The faces around him were distorted, he couldn't tell which way he was going or which way he should have been going. But in the mist of the confusion, he spotted a boy with bright blonde hair. John had blonde hair, so perhaps the boy was John. He soon joined the rest of the crowd in pushing the others around him, desperately trying to get to the blonde haired boy.

It was only when he reached the house that he realized that this was indeed not John, but in fact a junkie. Without having anywhere else to go he continued into the house where he threw himself on the nearest sofa. The owner of the house was soon freaking out telling everyone who had apparently followed him to leave. Sherlock had tried calling John at first, but after his voice mail for the fifth time had his phone rip out of his hand. It took him a moment to process what had happen and another to realize who Peter (it was his house apparently) was calling.

That's why he was now curled up on his classmate's couch pouting while his brother spoke to the boy on the other side of the room.

No doubt Mycroft would tell their parents, his was the golden son after all. His parents would come home, get angry and upset and then try and send him off to some rehab. But in the end he would blame it on peer pressure and promise never ever to take drugs again. They would go back to their business trip and Sherlock would go right back to how he was. There was no way Mycroft would tell John, he wouldn't risk Sherlock losing his only friend, not after Mycroft had seen Sherlock after his and John's first fight.

No, everything would go back to normal.

But perhaps a little revenge would was in order.

* * *

Molly sighed as she went to help her friend off the couch. Patty looked completely miserable, and as much as it pained Molly to see her friend so sickly, she couldn't help but bitterly think that perhaps Patty's misery would convince her to never do something so stupid again. But then again Molly felt a bit guilty; perhaps if she had been there she could have stopped Patty.

The moment Patty was on her feet she threw a hand over her mouth a sprung to the bathroom. Her red curls flowing behind her as she slammed the door shut, a gagging noise could be heard from behind the door. Molly gave an exhausted sigh, this was going o be long night.

"Evening Molly didn't think I'd see you here." Sherlock looked up from his spot on the couch. His dark curls fell over his eyebrows and his eyelids were half closed, giving his a sleepy, almost void look.

"Same to you Sherlock, does John know?" Molly questioned as gathered but her friend's coat and purse.

"No, and he doesn't need to. It's under control."

"And by 'under control' do you mean Holmes' is taking care of it, or that you're still denying you could actually be an addict?" Molly spat, it was one thing to find your closest friend high and so oblivious they couldn't help themselves. But to find that two of them made her start to question herself. It scared he how much she didn't see, was this the first Patty had shoot up? Had she been secretly hiding all this time? If so, when did she start? Was this all just peer pressure or was she truly an addict and needed help? And what about Sherlock? Had he known about Patty? Were they shooting up together? True, they hardly ever saw each other, but Sherlock knew almost everything about everyone, and if he knew Patty was going drugs, then perhaps he saw her as an outlet.

Sherlock sighed, "I honestly don't understand why he makes you call him that."

"He likes to be professional, and I suggest you be _very_ respectful to him."

"Professional? Oh please, everyone acts like he's some high and powerful being. But it's funny I suppose, he's just like everyone else; He gets frustrate with his homework, stresses over exams, has a part-time job.....has a secret crush."

Molly knew she should really stop listening now. Sherlock was high, he probably didn't even know what he was saying, there was a good chance it wasn't even true! But...Mycroft, a crush? Mycroft Holmes, the man who earned the nickname 'Iceman'. The same man who everyone assumed was asexual. But Mycroft was her friend, at least she considered him her friend, and he obviously didn't want anyone knowing, it just wasn't right. Ah, but as before, there was a good chance Sherlock was just making it all up.

What harm could it do?

"Sure, of course." Molly said, humoring him. "I bet he watches them all the time, writes about them in his secret diary, why I bet he even keeps locks of their hair."

"No, but he did bring home your pin one time, so I guess that counts."

"W-What?!" Molly could feel the blood rushing through her veins and causing her to blush. Her eyes went wide as she felt her body facial musicals slack in shock while the rest of her went tense.

Sherlock's lips began to spread into a smug half-smile as he stared up at Molly from his spot on the couch.

"Oh yeah, it's pretty obvious, I'm surprised you didn't notice; staring at you even you aren't looking, purposely trying to avoid you so he doesn't embarrass himself in front of you, he even asked your chemistry teacher if you two can be paired up for the next project. Just wait and see when the next project comes along."

Molly went to say more but as she opened her mouth Mycroft and Peter came over. Mycroft gave an annoyed sigh as he heaved Sherlock off the couch and helped him stand up. Sherlock, who was having trouble balancing on his own feet, was leaning up against Mycroft with his lolled head against his chest.

"Thank you again Mr. Thrust, I can assure you no trouble will come out of his from our end. Although, that lady who left before me with her brother, I believe you know her well."

"Who? Oh yeah, Tiff, we dated once about a year ago-"

"She's having money trouble; she will most likely ask you if she might borrow some. Should you refuse her she will probably try and blackmail you. If this should happen, remind her that the reason she's having money trouble is because of her drinking problem."

With that Mycroft turned around and left his arm around Sherlock's as he all but dragged him out the front door. After a moment, Molly went to go check on Patty, luckily she forgot to shut the bathroom and Molly found her passed out in front of the toilet on the floor. After thanking Peter and promising him it wouldn't happen again, with her arm around Patty's waist and Patty's arm thrown around her neck, Molly hulled Patty out of the house and carefully arranged Patty in her car.

All during the drive home, Molly's mind was buzzing. She couldn't get what Sherlock said out of head. Did Mycroft really like her, or was that just the drugs talking? Sherlock had mentioned Mycroft bring one of her hair pins home, that seemed to much detail for it to be just the drugs, than again this was Sherlock, he would be the one person to give false details wile high. Thankfully, Molly was left to her though as Patty remained asleep throughout the entire duration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the whole "Mycroft working at an Ice Cream Parlor" came from my giftee's request on wanting alternate-professions and me going to a 'Stake'n Shake' and absulotly falling in love with their uniforms. There will be more about Mycroft's 'other profession' later on.


	4. Childish Things

Molly fixed her shirt for what felt like the hundredth time. She licked her lips in nervousness as she stood outside of the store. She had picked out the shirt on purpose for she thought it made her look for mature. The floral shirt was loose and had ruffles around the neck with no sleeves. Now though, she felt like a little girl playing dress-up with her mummy's clothes. The light gray slacks were just barely an inch too long, but with the hem folded and sewn over and her black shoes with the small lift it hovered over the ground rather than dragged along it.

It was an accident really; she had been on her way to her aunt’s house to feed her cats while she was away. Since her aunt never gave her a specific time to go over, she figured the best time would be in the later afternoon. Molly had been self-conscious about her outfit the whole way there. Her aunt lived only a few streets over so there was no need to drive or take a bus. But every time she passed window she found see her reflection and wonder if she looked as ridiculous as she thought she did.

It was at a corner of street, the light was still red, and so had a few moments to wait until the traffic stopped. Behind her was a store, for what she couldn't really tell, all she took in to notice was her reflection staring back at her. Fiddling with her hair she couldn't decide if her braid looked best thrown to the side or behind her. It only took a second, but as she focused her eyes to the inside of the shop, she noticed a familiar face behind the counter.

Mycroft Holmes stood behind a bar wearing a white apron and a paper hat while pulling a leveler releasing chocolate ice cream into a cone.

A blush spread over her face, her mind went racing as her body froze trying to process the scene before her. With her mind preoccupied, it didn't register to her that the sidewalk night had turned green. As people pushed passed her to get across the road, everything seems to slow down around her.

_Should I go inside? No, it would just be awkward. I still have time to stop before I have to get to my aunt's house, I could just stop for a quick chat. No, Mycroft doesn't do chats; I could just pretend that I'm getting something quick to eat. Yeah, I could go inside, pretend I just want a small cone for me to eat on the way then be all surprised when I see Mycroft._

Molly took a deep breath as she steeled her nerves, going before she changed her mind. As she opened the store's door it was only then that she realized the stores name _**Paul's Parlor**_ , the placed had a 50's design with neon green cushioned booths, black and white tile floors, all the way down to a jukebox. Pink and Blue stools were in front of the bar with a large menu hanging off the wall. On the far corner of the parlor were old arcade games lined up. A buffet was placed on the wall closest to the bar; filled with every type of topping you could imagine.

"-eady Miss Hooper?"

Molly shook her head as she realized that Mycroft was speaking to her. Outside her had made up her mind to simple order a chocolate ice cream cone, say a quick 'hello' and leave. But she faced the dilemma of which chocolate ice cream she wanted.

_Milk Chocolate_

_Dark Chocolate_

_Mint Chocolate_

_Chocolate Cookies'n Cream_

_Moose Tracks_

_Chocolate Fudge_

_Chocolate with Almonds_

_Chocolate with Peanut Butter Cups_

And that was only the chocolate; there were so many different types of ice cream. Then you could get two types mixed together, or you could get a bowl or waffle cone or a waffle cone shaped as a bowl. Then did she want large, medium or small? Did she want toppings or not? There were so many choices.

"Ummm....I-I think I'll have Mint Chocolate, no toppings."

Mycroft simple nodded "What do you want it in, Bowel or cone?"

"Ummm...The waffle bowel?" Molly said, having to bite her tongue before she called it a 'thingy'.

Mycroft turned around and took a Waffle bowl and went over to a large tub of a ice cream labeled 'Mint Choco' on the front. "So....I didn't know you worked here Mycroft, did you just start or-?" Molly said, trying to start a polite conversation.

"I have been working here for the past month. I needed money, they were hiring." Mycroft deadpanned, he spoke as he scooped out the ice cream without looking towards Molly.

Molly cringed at the tone of his voice, she was getting nowhere with him. Perhaps she was right in her earlier thinking; maybe it was just the drugs talking. Sherlock was always known as a troublemaker, it wouldn't have surprised her if Sherlock had just told her Mycroft liked her just to get back at her for something. She was just making a fool of herself, honestly, Mycroft liking her? Everyone knew Mycroft didn't 'like' people.

As her thoughts turned more depressing, Mycroft returned with her cone. Molly was internally scolding herself for getting her hopes up. How stupid must she look? She didn't even really want ice cream! She must have looked child to Mycroft, all dressed-up in clothes too large for her about to eat a cone of ice cream, now she understood why Sherlock considered everyone an idiot.

"That will be two thirty."

Molly shook herself from her thoughts, forcing a smile; she took the money out of her purse and swapped it with Mycroft for the cone. With a sigh, she closed up her purse and made to leave the parlor.

"That's a- *cough* that’s a nice shirt you're wearing." Mycroft spoke out loud as Molly took her first steps towards the door. Mycroft's voice made Molly freeze on spot, an odd feeling surged through her.

"T-thank you, it's new....I'm trying a new look, you know, just trying to fresh-up my outfit..."

Molly quieted the small part of her that was pleased with Mycroft's complement. It was nothing; people complement other people all the time. Although Mycroft wasn't known to fancy anyone, he was a gentleman. It wasn't an odd sight to see him hold the door open for someone, or for him to give up is spot.

But his next words nearly made Molly jump for joy.

"We're having a special next Wednesday, all tops free, you should come by."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the idea for the Ice Cream parlor from the restaurant Steak N Shake, also from pics of Ice Cream Parlor's from the 50's.
> 
> Workers at Steak N Shake where black pants and a white shirt with a black apron, red or black bow tie and a paper hat.


	5. A Plot Against Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for it being so short, this is kinda important for the story.

The Watermill Mall, otherwise known among the youths as 'The Mill', was known as more of one large hang-out rather than a shopping center. The mall had three floors, the first and second were a mix variety of shops; some for clothes, other for food, jewelry, or organic body lotions. But the top floor had only one store and a movie theater. With clothing, food, arcades and movies, there was really everything one could want.

On the second floor all the way on the east side of the mall, was a Menchies. With over 20 flavors of frozen yogurt it was one of the most popular food stores in the mall. Tops of every kind was set near the self-serve stand of frozen yogurt.

Seated on a booth in the far end of the store was Greg Lestrade. Across from him slouched over in his seat was Sherlock Holmes. The curly haired boy stirred his yogurt around in his bowl, mixing the Dark Chocolate with the Red Velvet Cake yogurts together. After 'The Incident' as Mycroft was calling it, Sherlock had managed for Mycroft not to tell John on the condition that he spoke with _someone_ about his 'issue' (for Sherlock refused to admit he might possibly have an addiction).

At first Sherlock simply told Mycroft to leave him be ( _"Piss off! Don't you have an ice cream to eat?")_ to this Mycroft replied that he would he would talk their parent's into sending Sherlock to a rehab, and until then ground him ( _So help me I will throw out all of your experiments and take away your microscope!)._ So that was why Sherlock had called up Lestrade and asked him to meet him at the mall.

Greg, unfortunately, was oblivious to all this and didn't have a clue as to why Sherlock had called him. 

"So..." He prompted Sherlock who wouldn't so much as look him in the eye.

"Mycroft believes I have a problem and wishes me to speak with someone about said problem hoping to gain some unknown wise that-" Sherlock spat out all in the same breath.

"In English." Greg interrupted.

"Mycroft thinks I have an addiction problem, I think differ."

"Addiction.....Sherlock Holmes, tell me you weren't at party last night!"

Word had traveled fast about Sally's party. Her parties were known for their blasting loud music and illegal substances. The first party she held was at her own house, she quickly learned how messy thirty plus teenagers can be. Since then she (or Philip, the boy everyone knew she was sleeping with, everyone expect his girlfriend) would find out from neighbors when they be gone or fine empty houses for her parties. 

She was normally careful not to attract to much attention. But this was definitely not the first time the cops had showed up. But it was the first time the cops had found such a large amount drugs. 

"John made me." Sherlock said, as if it were an explanation.

"And I suppose John had you take the drugs as well."

"We're not here to talk about John." Sherlock said quickly trying to change the subject.

"How long Sherlock?"

"Irrelevant."

"Very relevent, now answer the question."

"Hmmm...Let's see, I first tried some during the middle of freshmen year. So...It will have been a year in two months."

"Jesus..."

A year, a whole year of doing drugs in secret. How many times had Sherlock been high but they'd dismissed it for him being moody or just himself? Did John know? Most likely not, oh god, what would he say? He'd probably hate himself for not noticing.

Greg could still remember how devastated John was when Harry had come home at three in the morning the third time that week. He was tired and moody, he'd snap at people randomly, one moment he'd act depressed the next he would get angry because he said everyone was looking at him with pity. And that was just in public, when they were alone just hanging out he was worse.

"You've been doing drugs for a year, none stop, and you still think you don't have an addiction problem? And I thought I was the idiot! Sherlock you need help!"

" _I am fine."_

"And I'm the Queen. Sherlock I'm serious, what'd ya need? My dad has worked with addicts before, he can probably recommend a really good facility. My mum's a nurse so I can ask her-"

"Mycroft has taken control of my money and since I have asked that John be left out of this, he wishes for me to have a companion for when his has to go to work. You are the.....third least annoy person I know. You will only be required to come over my house after school and stay until Mycroft gets out of work around seven. He has every other weekend off, but because John is normally over very weekend so you're not required to come over."

"So- you, you want me to stop by your house after school?"

"Mycroft believe it dangerous to take me off drugs completely so starting today he's slowly bring me down. Within the next week I should be off completely, that's when I'll need someone there to....assist me."

"Because of withdrawal?"

"Yes, now if you agree to this you can't tell anyone, especially John." 

"Fine, of course, do- do you need me to come over today? Do you need a ride? I can-"

"You yogurt is melting."

It was than that Greg felt a wet patch growing on his pants. He closed his eyes and cringed as he opened them to look down. There, directly on his crotch was a patch of melted fudge chocolate yogurt. As he looked up he noticed two waiters trying to hold back their laughter. As he turned back he saw Sherlock with a smug smile spread wide across his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not updating soon! This chapter has actually been done for sometime, I didn't Eben notice that I hadn't posted it. I'm also starting a new school and schedule has been changing a lot. With everything getting settled I'm hoping to have more time for me to update this and my other fics.
> 
> I WILL FINISH THIS FIC! IT WILL NOT EVER BE ABANDONED!


	6. Self-Destruction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So good news, for Christmas I got my very own laptop! Which means I can post waaaay more! Now that I'm winter break I have plenty of time to get this fic updated more! 
> 
> I'm really satisfied with how this chapter turned out. Honestly, I think I'm getting a little rusty, but hopefully not that I can post more I can fix that!

Molly bit her bottom lip nervously as her peers began to fill up the classroom. She felt as if all eyes were on her as she smoothed out her skirt. She had arrived to class early in hopes to talk with Mycroft. But as time ticked on she begun to regret to decision, the only students who arrived early looked absolutely bored out of their brains. She sighed as she slouched in her chair and aimlessly flicked through the textbook. 

On the board at the front of the class a hand-made poster hung for the homecoming dance. A fantasy passed through her mind of Mycroft asking her. Molly already had a dress picked out, she had every piece of jewelry selected and accessories brought out from the bottom of the chest in her closet. Now all she needed was a date, preferably a certain ginger headed and freckle spotted boy.   

As the first bell rang out a group of loud teenagers came through the door. Molly only recognized a couple of them, but she knew none of their names. She pulled out her cell phone, she was hoping Patty would call or text her to let her know if she was okay. After the excitement of the party and seeing Mycroft at the Ice cream parlor, the the weekend was surprisingly quiet. Understandably,  Sherlock had not said a word to her. It was not unusually for Sherlock to send her a random text asking her if there had been anymore mold or if her cat had brought home anymore dead animals.

Dread filled Molly as she realized that there was a good chance none of her friends would be in school that day. Lunch alone, no jokes about Mrs. Schneider's - Their Art teacher- German accent, or how Mr. Sweeney would pick his noise (a habit from childhood Sherlock had told them) when he thought no one was looking, it made the whole day seem ten times worse, plus, it was a Monday. 

The gloomy clouds outside seem to reflect Molly's spirit as the second bell rang and more students came in. The Teacher slipped in with them and went straight to his desk to begin attendance. As the third and final bell rang it became apparent that neither of the Holmes were coming.

* * *

"Pssst, Molls, did you do the math homework?"

Everything seem to tick Molly off that day. While normally only two, at most three, classes had homework. But it seemed the fates were against her, for the four classes she had already been to all assigned homework. The boy behind her, who Molly was already disliked for trying to cheat off her multiple times, tapped her on her shoulder as he as her for the homework. This was not the first time he had asked her, and Molly knew it would not be the last. She shook her head as she quickly handed her homework up to the kid in front of her. Molly never liked lying, but for some unknown reason the boy behind her always asked her for the homework, even though she had never once given it out to him or anyone else.

The teachers words became a white noise to her.  She began to make a mental list of all the things she would have to do before the day was out. It became apparent that neither Holmes had shown up that day. She wanted to talk with Patty after school, but Molly knew there was chance that Patty might not have come in to school that day either. Molly inwardly groaned when she remembered her mother said that her aunt would be coming over that day with some 'big news'. With that, and all the homework she had to do, she would be busy all day.

"Molly, what do you think the answer is?"

Her teacher's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Dread filled her as refocused on the board in front of the class. The problem written upon it seemed to mock her as she struggled to remember anything from the lesson.

* * *

It was the last class of the day and Molly sighed once class had started. Patty hadn't come to any of her classes that day. Molly wondered if she should give her a call to make sure she was alright. Than again, it might be unwelcome, Molly was never good with such things. A situation like this was serious, it won't do her an good if Patty tried to push her away. Molly wondered how Mycoft was handling Sherlock. Perhaps she could stop by the ice cream parlor and ask him for advice. Then again, if he didn't show up to school, he might not show up to work either. 

Just when Molly though she would scream from how frustrated she was getting, the bell rang out. Molly felt sluggish as she began to pack up her things. She realized that she must have been far gone in her thoughts, for the other classmates had packed up long before and were rushing out of the classroom. Feeling emotionality drained, Molly shrugged on her backpack, but was stopped before she could leave the room.

"Molly, could I speak with you for a moment?"

Turning she saw it was her teacher speaking to her. It came to a surprise when Molly forgot what class she was in, but after a moment the name 'Physics' came into mind.

"Um, yes Mr. McFee?"

"Can you tell me one thing I taught today in class?"

Mr. McFee gave a sympathies smile as he saw Molly's face pale. "I noticed today in class you seemed to be preoccupied. You're one of the top students in this class Molly, you have a bright future in front of you. While I hardly doubt missing one lesson will change all of that, I don't want to see you falling behind. Is there anything bothering you?"

Molly thought for a moment, then answered. "It's- it's personal stuff. I guess I'm just really tired today, I promise this won't become a regular thing. There's just so much stuff going on, I kinda feel like I have a hundred things to do but there's only one of me to do them."

"I understand, perhaps taking some time off from something, just don't push yourself too hard."

Molly gave a grateful nod as she headed back towards the door.

"Remember! I always put the notes from the lesson up on my website!"

Molly decided that would treat herself that afternoon. Before she would go home she made up her mind to pamper herself.

Maybe with a little ice cream.


	7. Allies

Molly kept her chin up as she marched down the sidewalk to the ice cream parlor. Her mind was split in two, one side hoping that Mycroft wouldn't be there, and the other just wanting to get this over with and be done with it. She resisted the urge to check her hair again; for she had twisted into a messy, yet hopefully, cute bun. As she neared the shop she could feel her heart racer faster and faster. With a determination ruling over her entirely, she kept her feet walking the same steady pace. With a force she never knew she had, she calmed her heart and pushed open the shop door. Much to her joy and despair, Mycroft stood behind the counter, whipping it down with a rag. 

As she entered the shop Mycroft looked up and gave a warm smile. "Molly, what can I do for you?"

"Well, first I'd like some chocolate ice cream on a cone." She said as she took a seat on a stool by the counter. "And secondly, I'd like some advice."

"Oh, oh what?" Mycroft asked as he got a cone and began scooping out the ice cream.

"Well, I know it's none of my business, but it's about my friend Patty. Do you remember the night at the party? The one you had to pick Sherlock up from? Well, I wanna talk to Patty about....Well I wanna first find out if she's addicted or not, and if so what I can do about it. But I have no idea about how to bring it."

Mycroft stopped for a moment to think about Molly's request. He wasn't sure he could tell her how he and Sherlock were dealing with his....problem when he wasn't sure if it was working. He didn't want the poor girl to try and find a similar solution only to themselves back at square one. He knew how Molly felt, the urge to help but too afraid tat you might make everything worse. It was an odd thought, that there was someone else who knew how he felt, it was also a type of thought he didn't want to dwell on.

"I suppose the only thing you can do talk with her. Be honest and tell her how you feel and what you're willing to do. The only way your friend is going to get help is if she wants help. If she isn't willing to make an effort than you bring it up time and time again will only push the two of you apart. But, I suppose that is what is needed sometime. If you really want to help her, than you need to make a decision. If she gives on herself you can't, even if it means cutting her off. Sometime it takes losing someone to give her the final push to get help."

His answer shocked Molly, she hadn't thought of it like that. The thought of cutting Patty off scared her. Was she willing to do that? Risk their friendship if it meant Patty getting help? There was also the risk of Patty just moving on, becoming ore harden and giving up completely. Molly supposed it all came down to how selfish she was. Which did she value more, her friendship, or Patty?

"I wouldn't worry about it too much." Mycroft said as he handed her the ice cream cone. "I think this maybe the first time for your friend. She doesn't seem like an addict, than again, I'm sure many people don't. Just don't over think it, and be honest." Mycroft as he gave what he hope was a reassuring smile.

"Thanks Mycroft, for the ice cream, and for the advice." Molly said as he hopped off the stool, placed some money on the counter and headed towards the door.

* * *

As soon as Molly Hooper was gone gave a sigh of relief. It wasn't that he didn't like he, but their talk was too emotional for his liking. And if he was honest, it hit all too close to home. 

Although it was against his brother's wishes, he admitted that he wanted to bring John Watson into light about Sherlock's drug habit. He knew that if John ever did find out, he would be furious with Sherlock. But perhaps that was just what Sherlock needed. John was a good influence on Sherlock, anyone with eyes could see that. It was highly unlikely that this would cause their friendship any permanent damage. But still, Mcroft understood Sherlock's request for John not to be brought into light of any of this. If John were to for some reason cut off their friendship, there would be chaos in the Holmes house do doubt.

Mycroft thought about Molly's situation, how similar they were. Ms. Hooper was known to be a warm, kind and loyal person. These were evident in her need t help her friend even though she was never prompt to. Mycroft made up his mind that if he were ever in need of an ally, Molly Hooper was as good as any.


End file.
